Gotham Devils
by BiteMeChomp
Summary: Lucille has two lives. Both secretive. She's an escort to Gotham's mobsters and politicians who goes by Adina and a league trained assassin who's lost direction. What happens when the devils of Gotham rise to destroy the city? Will she let them corrupt Gotham or administer justice and cleanse Gotham herself? OC/Joker Rated M for sex/violence


_**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

**This is my first attempt at writing fanfic. If you want, please give me feedback/reviews **

**UPDATE: I originally took this story down because of a dispute over the name of my character and her profession. I thought it was the right thing to do but now I'm thinking fuck it. This is all my own written work besides the quotes from the movies/comics. I didn't steal my OC. Adina is her cover name. I like it and I'm keeping it. Enjoy the start to my story.**

* * *

Looking outside the small window across from the sofa I've stretched myself out on I watch the green trees and the patterns of light obstructed by them. It's almost like God has tie dyed the world with light. The wind blows the branches about and creeps through the open window.

I've just finished with my client and have retired to my sitting room to think. Phil is nice, better than most politicians or mobsters that seek my company. I've been Phil Frost's kept escort for five months. He's been attentive and has paid well but my contract is up with him now. As an escort I only stay with the client for five months tops no matter the man/woman or money. This is the worst part of the job. The break up.

There's a knock from the double French doors to my left.

"Adi, want to accompany me in the shower?" Phil asks as he opens the doors and strides in wearing nothing but that dashing smile he pays a fortune to whiten. Phil's a cigar smoker. I often have to make him step out to the balcony when he lights one up in my apartment." I've got a meeting with Lieutenant Jim Gordon soon."

Phil makes his way over to my side. He's always so affectionate after sex. Not detached like others I've been with. I sit up and hand him a blanket to cover up. I'm no stranger to the extremities of men but he's going to feel quite inferior after I'm done.

"Phil, I'd love to but I've got to go" I tell him as he pulls me atop his lap.

"Where are you going? Shopping in town, or those mysterious trips you don't tell me about?" He teased as he nuzzled my neck. Phil wasn't demanding but he got possessive at times. With my line of work I learned to keep things secretive. I especially kept my history and some nightly activities secretive.

"Phil it's time for me to leave" I say as I got off his lap. I walked to the door leading to the other side of the apartment opposite the bedroom where I had just been entertaining Phil. The door gave way revealing a few packed boxes. These were mostly filled with shoes, clothes, gifts, and a small amount of personal affects.

"Adina, what's all this? I thought you liked this arrangement, my wife doesn't even make a fuss any-"

"Phil you know what I do. This is all a part of the job, you signed the contract-"

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THAT-"Phil yelled as I pointed out the reality of this tryst. "Adi look I'll give you more money. I'll get you a better apartment-" He wraps the blanket around his lean torso and makes his way over to where I'm still standing. He goes to wrap his arms around me but I evade him. I've learned over the years that the worst thing to do is let the client think the rules can be bent. You fulfill the contract and get out. No contact, especially physical contact.

"It's not a matter of money Phil. It's my job."

"So all that was just your duty? These past months I've told you more about myself than even my own wife!" I can hear the agitation making its way into his voice. This is where things get delicate.

"I've meant everything I have said to you Phil, I have a strict five month contract that you signed and I made this perfectly clear." I hold my ground as I keep my eyes steeled with his. I can see he's becoming distressed and emotional. "Phil, let's make this easy. If you leave now I'll be gone before the day ends and I'll close the apartment up. I already broke the lease." I already had a small space in downtown Gotham. It wasn't the safest place to live given the mob and freaks running about but I kept my head down and my work called for me to be accessible to clientele. Plus I had extracurricular activities that insured my neighborhood was clear of crime.

Exasperated Phil retreated to the bedroom. I heard shuffling and a few curses as he collected his clothes. He returned to the sitting room where I had some of the more expensive gifts he had given me in a box. Phil's a politician from a large family who owns some oil rights and had their hands in many other pots around Chicago. Phil was only staying in Gotham for a little under a year to "create business contacts" but the only contact he had been making was with me, repetitively.

I gave him a warm smile but my eyes stayed impassive as I handed him the box. It was one thing to keep the money I was paid but a whole other to keep excessive gifts.

"Adina, I'm still angry just keep all of that. I don't want to make this longer than it already had been. I need some dignity." He gave me a sad once over and made his way to the door. "It's been really good hasn't it?" He asked me from the doorway.

"Phil it's been the best." I bid him goodbye with a simple kiss on the cheek and with that I was done with another client.

I had returned to my home in downtown Gotham. I rented a small space that I kept away from my work. This is where I live when not with a client or if the client doesn't want a kept escort. It was simple yet classy and comfortable. I loved the view, I was on the 4th floor and I had access to the roof. From up there I could see all the sparkling lights of the city. Even Wayne tower was lit up with the colors of the night. I unpacked my day bag and started to undress. It was time to get to work.

In the Narrows I had to grow up fast and hard. It was cruel but nothing like what it became after that freak Jonathan Crane and his cronies contaminated the water. After the surface of Scarecrow and the Batman I knew I would have to protect myself as I had done growing up.

I grew up in the Narrows back when it was tolerable. My parents hadn't planned to have me but for reasons unknown to me they didn't give me up. I was born in Gotham general and was given the name Lucille Cooper. I never used my real mane in my line of work. I call myself Adina Grant. I was given the name Adina from one of my first clients. He was a businessman from Israel but Arabic in heritage. He called me Adina explaining that in Hebrew it means delicate or gentle one.

My parents worked all the time and I knew that if I needed something I could only depend on myself. My mother was a drug addict and my father was spineless. He was good natured but in conflict he backed down. My parents both paid me no mind after age 6. Father worked two jobs to support my mother's habits. Mother turned to prostitution to earn more for her gambling. She worked out of our house and I was exposed to her actions and clients.

The only useful thing my mother ever taught me was how to manipulate men. Mother was a classic beauty, long blonde hair and soft red lips. She had beautiful white porcelain skin that her clients loved to stroke. I received all of her looks except my hair. I was gifted my father's thick brunette locks.

As I grew I taught myself how to stay in the shadows. Especially at night, never walk around the Narrows at night unless you stick to the shadows and arm yourself. I've always been partial to knives. The beauty of a handcrafted blade is unparalleled. I stole my first knife off one of my mother's clients. His name was Freddy. As my mother and her clients got it on I would pickpocket their clothes. Nobody in the Narrows besides drug dealers had anything of value.

I learned how to wield a knife like anyone else in the Narrows does. It's self taught, I have numerous scars on my person to prove it. I got enough knowledge by age 12 to effectively defend myself. It wasn't until I was in high school that I came across John. I don't even know if that was his real name. He was much older than me but he saw my potential. John was secretive. I know nothing of his past only that he was once married and had a daughter who I only assume had both died. He offered to help me one night as I was practicing my blade skills on a wretch who was trying to rape a young girl in my alleyway.

"Hey baby, why don't you give me a smile? Show me your pretty teeth" said the wretch as he groped the young one. I came up behind him and placed me knife at his throat.

"Get your hands off her." I snarled as he immediately complied.

"Calm down, I wasn't gonna do nuthin to her-" The wretch backed away from the child. She looked at my eyes and silently thanked me before skittering off.

"I know exactly what you were going to do, you worthless piece of trash" the nameless wretch tried to struggle against my blade cutting into his neck. Out of nowhere I heard a new voice.

"Cut his throat."

It wasn't in my head because the ugly wretch started to tremble. I looked off above my head and to my right and found the source to this voice. It was a man; he was much older than me. Not yet showing gray hair. Just like my knives, he was very beautiful. He had a brutality that I could see in his face. But he also had an air of dark purpose.

Without a replying to the man I applied pressure to the blade and slit the wretch's throat. He collapsed and bled out at my feet.

"You're lucky he was frail, if you had taken on any man bigger than him you would be dead now." Said the onlooker.

"What was I suppose to do? This should be unacceptable. It is unacceptable outside the narrows!" I naively exclaimed to the stranger.

"You are right only in that it should be unacceptable. There are criminals everywhere. Like Constantinople or Rome before it Gotham has become a breeding ground for suffering and injustice." The man swung over the balcony and landed to my right. "You can help if you feel the burning fire of true justice as you look in that wretch's eyes."

"Who are you?" I ask this mesmerizing man.

"My name isn't important, I can teach you how to truly strike down this kind of injustice if you so wish."

I looked into this strange mans eye's and was met with his own piercing gaze. I would end up being taught to fight by this man. I came to call him John. He taught me how to strike throw and immobilize the enemy. He also taught me weaponry. He taught me to be fierce and impassive in my judgment. Shortly after meeting John I left home. No one would search for me. I traveled to many places in Europe learning from my friend. He taught me until I reached the age of 22 when sadly he died during a judgment in Cairo. I wasn't with him on this trip, I had returned to Gotham. He had caught up to a known murderer and terrorist. John followed him into an old building and as he gave him the finishing blow the building crumbled under John and he fell six stories to his death.

I grieved for my friend who had taught me much. Since then I have often kept up my practice masking myself in the attire of an assassin. I would lay fierce judgment on the filthy crime mongers around my home. As I do now.

After ending it with Phil I had a lot of pent up energy that was unused. Normally when I end a tryst with the usual mob boss or politician things get physical. They get hurt. Phil was different, other than cheating on the wife he was a good person. Normally my clients divulge heavy guarded secrets to me in their form of trust but Phil didn't really know of anything relating to in underworld of Gotham. He mostly just spoke about business deals with wonder boy Bruce Wayne.

On that thought, I had been invited to Wayne's gala for Harvey Dent. All the influential deep pocketed Gothamites were to show up and I needed a new client. Preferably one with information.

Just as I was done making my rounds through my neighborhood I found a target. I happened upon a man that I knew to be one of Gambol's cronies. This man was responsible for the murders of three children and the rape and murder of four women. He's just walked through the alley exit of a local club to take a smoke.

He lights one up as I slink into the alley.

"Can I have a light?" I ask as I walk up to his right.

"Sure thing bab-" He's interrupted by the knife sticking out of his jugular. I watch as all the color drains from his eyes. I have now exacted justice.

Time to find something to wear for the Wayne gala.

* * *

Please review!


End file.
